Train Tales
by Razeasha
Summary: Threeshot. Lavi, Allen, Kanda, and Bookman are on a long train ride to their next mission. Lavi coaxes them all into reciting some form of literature. Rated T for Lavi's questionable humor...Chapter 3 up!
1. Chapter 1

I've wanted to write something like this for a while. I hope you all like it! Subsequent chapters will depend on the reviews I receive, because I'll probably run out of ideas for content, if I do not receive feedback.

I don't own DGM, or any of the characters, or rights, or rights to any of Herman Melville's works...

* * *

Lavi moaned. He, Bookman, Allen and Kanda had embarked on a painfully long journey by train. They had miraculously managed to spend the first hour in silence enforced by Bookman and the eternally grumpy Kanda. Neither of the two wanted to hear Lavi prattle on throughout the long journey. Lavi moaned again and pressed his face against the glass of the window. He began to slide his face down the window, whilst staring at Allen.

Allen was trying to remain quiet and fairly still. He was reviewing his case files for the third time and was tiring of them. He did not want to break the silence, but it was bothering him. Luckily, and expectedly, Allen was not the one to speak.

"Would anyone like to tell stories, or recite poetry, or anything?" Lavi asked hopefully, much to the joy of Allen and the chagrin of the others.

Bookman sighed. "Seeing as it would be naïve of me to think you could contain yourself, why not go ahead?" Bookman narrowed his eyes at Lavi. "But if I do not like what you say, I will shut you up."

"OK!" Lavi agreed. "Allen, you start!"

"Wh-what?" Allen gasped. "Why do you want me to start?" Allen was startled and did not particularly want to make up a story, or poem, or whatever else.

"Why not? Well, if you don't want to go first, then I'll make Kanda go first! Give us a pretty poem, Yuu!"

Kanda lifted his head to glare at Lavi. "No. And don't call me by my first name! It pisses me off, and you know that."

Lavi pouted. "Why won't you do it, Yuu? Are you not smart enough?" Allen gasped as Lavi pestered the Japanese exorcist.

"You want a poem? Here is your damn poem!

_The idiot speaks._

_Unless he shuts his big mouth,_

_I. will. beat. him. down._" With that, Kanda quieted and simply glared at Lavi, who did not speak.

Lavi finally spoke, "Well, that was a nice haiku, Yuu. Why don't you share something now, Allen?"

"Um…OK…Is a riddle good enough?"

"Sure!" Lavi encouraged. "Make it a funny riddle!"

"What? Make it funny? How?" Allen was not sure that he was going to like the sort of riddle that Lavi would ask.

"Like this:

What do fur coats and General Cross have in common?"

Allen became pallid. "Do I even want to know?" Lavi did not reply; he only smiled at Allen, until Allen submitted. "What?" He groaned.

"You can find them both wrapped around rich women!" Lavi was the only one laughing.

"We are not amused." Bookman shot Lavi a glare that could curdle fresh milk. Lavi became quiet again.

Lavi groaned. "Allen, you must have something you want to share. I shared a riddle, and Kanda shared a sweet, sweet love poem!" Lavi ignored the icy glare of death that Kanda sent him.

Allen thought for a minute. "I did memorize a poem that I liked. It was written by Reba Ruelle. Would that be OK?"

"Sure, that would be fine," Lavi encouraged him.

Allen sighed. "OK, here goes nothing:

_As I turn to face_

_The resting place_

_Of your flesh and bone,_

_I begin to cry_

_And want to die._

_For I am all alone._

_As I turn the key_

_And enter the_

_Place we called our home._

_I dare to look_

_And find a book_

_That once you did own._

_I open it, _

_And read a bit._

_I chill in every bone._

_It is so dear_

_What you wrote here._

_A world to me, you've shown._

_As I turn the page_

_Still in this cage_

_Of my flesh and bone,_

_I feel aware_

_That you are there,_

_And I am not alone._" No one spoke.

"I wasn't expecting that," Lavi commented in a somber tone. Kanda snorted softly beside Allen.

"What made you like this particular poem?" Bookman inquired.

"Oh, my father always wrote little notes in the margins of his books. This poem makes me think of him and how I felt when…he …died…" Allen trailed off. He realized that he had said much more than he intended to say. He felt exposed and embarrassed. They all once again fell into silence.

They had spent no more than a half hour in silence, when Lavi spoke again. "Hey, Gramps, you haven't shared anything yet. Why don't you share something?"

"I would prefer not to," Bookman stated coldly.

"Come on, Bartleby. We're talking a simple story or poem here!" Lavi whined at his mentor.

"Lavi, I am neither a scrivener, nor a storyteller, nor a poet. I am a Bookman. And you are my pathetic apprentice and I do not appreciate your incessant pestering!" Bookman cuffed Lavi fairly hard on the side of his head.

"Ow…But hey, at least I didn't make a Moby Dick joke!" Lavi whined.

"Mentioning it is just as bad," Bookman reprimanded. "How about this, I will tell you a fable, if you can recite a decent poem."

"You're on!" Lavi jumped up. Lavi cleared his throat and began:

"_Good and evil, _

_Are they black and white?_

_Is there a grey area in between?_

_Can one try to justify,_

_Or will it be just a lie?_

_Right and wrong,_

_Are they red and violet?_

_Is there a spectrum in between?_

_Or can one's distorted deduction_

_Be one's destruction?_

_Better and worse,_

_Are they day and night?_

_Is there a never-ending cycle?_

_Are salvation and destruction intertwined?_

_Causing improvement to be undermined?_

_Life and death,_

_Are they negative space?_

_Does one create a picture of the other?_

_If one did not die, one would never live._

_Then, there would be no thanks to give._"

"Lavi, did you just describe morals using artistic terms?" Allen was astonished. '_Sometimes Lavi can be such a jackass, but other times, he's really brilliant.'_

"Yeah, I did. Do you approve, Gramps?" Lavi asked proudly.

"It will suffice." Bookman answered him calmly.

* * *

I hope you all liked my little frame story! By the way, Reba Ruelle is not a real person (to the extent of my knowledge). I wrote the poem myself (all of the poems, actually), so I made up the name from a shortened version of my first name and a vague French translation of my last name. Please review and tell me if I should continue this story! Tell me about what you liked or disliked. I already have the fable Bookman will tell written. All reviews are loved.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, some people really like my poetry! Thank you so much for the reviews and hits! I hope you enjoy my fable too. Sorry, the first time that I put this up, I forgot to put the lines in!

D.Gray-Man is not mine; however, all of the short stories and poems are of my own creation.

* * *

Allen and Lavi both gazed expectantly at the small, old man. They both wondered what sort of story he would tell. Kanda did not particularly care about the entire ordeal, but he was slightly interested in hearing the tactful Bookman speak, not that he would admit it. Bookman spoke, "This is a fable with a moral you should all learn:

_Fox and weasel, both equally gifted in whit and slyness, were endeavoring to discover which one of them could best employ his sneaky skills. "I know that I am greater," fox boasted. "But I know not how best to demonstrate my superiority."_

_"Maybe we should find a difficult animal to trick and see who can deceive him," suggested weasel. He neither acknowledged that fox was greater, nor did he allow his mind to ponder the possibility._

_"How about we fool a lion?" Fox proposed. "He is the 'king of the jungle' after all."_

_"And exactly where do you expect to find a lion?' Weasel asked skeptically. _

_"There is a zoo not far from here. I discovered it, when I was searching for a new hen house to rob," fox explained nonchalantly, as if lions were as common in the rural town they inhabited as were the chickens they both robbed."_

"_Well, then, shall we venture to the zoo tonight?" Weasel asked. He was surprised that he had not discovered such a place before fox._

"_It sounds like a plan! I'll meet you here after nightfall and we'll venture there together," fox agreed and parted with weasel until nightfall._

_Fox and weasel met shortly after dusk. Fox lead the way to the zoo by moonlight. They arrived and quickly spotted the lion's enormous cage. They were about to slip through the bars, when they heard a voice come from above them. "I wouldn't enter that cage, if I were you." They spotted a small owl perched on a wooden sign that read "Caution: Do not pester the lion."_

"_If we wanted your advice we'd ask for it." Weasel retorted rudely at the small creature. "We are sly enough to get out of any situation."_

"_It's not a matter of being sly; it's a matter of common sense. Lion eats small animals like you. The two of you would probably be a nice snack for him. He is a large carnivorous beast!" Owl tittered with frustration._

_Neither fox, nor weasel wanted to listen to owl. They were so sure of their sly tongues and convincing words that surely lion would not devour them. They wiggled into the pen that contained lion. He was snoozing lazily on a soft patch of grass. He woke, when they approached. "What do you want?"_

"_I," fox began with rather malicious intent, "have come to deliver a tasty snack to you-this weasel."_

"_Have you now?" Lion mumbled groggily._

"_He has not!" Weasel shouted, "I have come bringing him to you! What better late-night morsel could you possibly have? Foxes are most delectable."_

"_I assure you, the meat of a weasel is extremely tender! There is none other like it!" Fox boasted, sounding as if he were a culinary expert._

_Lion was still groggy. He gazed lazily at them both. He rose and laid an enormous paw over each. "You both seem quite edible to me…" _

_Owl turned his head to the side, so as not to see the lion snacking on the two unfortunate critters. He sighed, "Being sly and eloquent is truly nothing, without common sense."_

How was that for a story?" Bookman gazed upon each boy's face in turn.

"There were other messages, weren't there?" Lavi asked his master.

"Tell me of the other moral you found, Lavi," Bookman had planned all along to see what each boy discovered for himself in the fable. Everything he did, he did for his job as a Bookman.

"Becoming ensnared with others can lead to one's downfall," Lavi offered. He wasn't quite sure what the old man expected him to say. He ran his fingers through his bright red hair as he awaited a reply.

"Did you find anything, Allen?" Bookman inquired. He did not remark on Lavi's interpretation.

Allen thought for a moment. "Do not become so wrapped up in your goals that they consume you…literally." He was unsure that his answer was correct.

"And you, Kanda? Did you find anything?" Bookman was certain that the boy had found his own moral, but it was dubious weather he would divulge it to the others.

Kanda grudgingly replied, "One should listen to the advice of others, instead of brushing them off and walking rashly into things."

"All of your answers are correct. You each examined the story and analyzed the happenings with your own flaws. You probably just learned something about yourselves and each other." A wry smile rested upon Bookman's lips. Such traps like this were merely child's play for him.

The three boys did not appreciate how they had admitted their own faults. Allen did not know how to feel about what Lavi had said. _'Not get involved? What does he mean? Does Lavi care too much for people that he shouldn't care for?' _Allen was drawn out of his contemplation, when Lavi spoke again.

"Is everyone up for another round?" Lavi asked with his usual cheer. Before anyone protested, Lavi volunteered to go first. "I'll start this round!"

"I can barely contain my excitement," Kanda grumbled sarcastically.

"Ew, Allen, did you hear that? Kanda has a crush on me!" Lavi enjoyed teasing the Asian boy very much, because he always became upset.

"If anyone is a pansy here, it would be you, Lavi!" Kanda snarled.

"Which is why you're so interested in me, correct?" Lavi continued to tease and showed no sign of relenting.

"Zakennaiyo! Shinitai ka?" English words failed Kanda as he rose from his seat to pummel the redhead.

"There will be no murder in this compartment today," Bookman declared sharply. "Sit down Kanda. Do not speak, Lavi. We will sit in silence."

All was silent, once again.

* * *

Zakennaiyo don't screw with me/ leave me alone

Shinitai ka? Wanna die?

By the way, I'm not against homosexuality. (I have homosexual friends of both genders and have known bisexual people of both genders.)

I'm thinking of ending it here, but if you like it, I can continue the story. Please review to let me know what you want. I can also write sequels with different characters. I think there might be an idea in my head for a third part, but I'm not sure…


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, I'm so happy that everyone really likes my characterization in this story. Thank you for all of the reviews. This chapter is a little more controversial, in that Lavi starts a discussion about religion. I hope you all enjoy it!

I do not own D.Gray-Man; it owns me.

* * *

The four exorcists had passed a miraculous hour and a half in silence. Allen was staring blankly out of the window with half-lidded eyes while ignoring the always-grouchy Kanda seated beside him. Across from Allen, Lavi was trying to occupy himself with various ponderings. Bookman sat beside Lavi enjoying the silence. "Hey, Gramps!"

'_The lips of the apprentice are moving. Why must they do that? Why must noise and ignorance pour out?' _Bookman thought before finally replying with a groan, "What is it, Lavi?"

"If I say something intelligent, may I speak again?" The redhead asked hopefully.

"Yes, you may," Bookman agreed, knowing that a refusal would just lead to an argument, and thus, more talking.

"How about I give you another poem then, guys?" Lavi suggested regarding the two boys seated across from him.

'_How about not?'_ Kanda thought, but did not reply. He merely stared coldly past Lavi.

"Um, OK," replied Allen, "Have at it."

"This one is called Oily Faith. The last time Bookman ever enrolled me in a school during out travels, my teacher made everyone draw two cards, one from each pile. One pile was full of intangible nouns; the other had adjectives. We were to write a poem based on the two cards we drew. Mine were obviously 'oily' and 'faith.' This was the poem that I wrote:

A tainted god,

A greasy guise of beliefs,

Polished by politics.

Then, consecrated by so-called churches.

So smooth and silver-tongued

The serpent whispers in my ear,

'Bite this apple of faith,

Or you shall die, I fear.'

His words oily and rotten,

Leave trails,

Of ideals forgotten.

I refuse the apple.

Not because I took a look

In a holy book;

But because I have faith.

All my own.

Not oiled to a heavenly sheen;

But home grown,

In the garden of my mind.

Away from the detrimental presidential potential

And the chained chorus of churches

Fashioned favorably by forefathers.

Faith is between people

And to whom they prey.

NOT oiled;

By the greasy fingers,

Of man."

Everyone was silent. Then, Bookman smacked Lavi on the back of his head. "Ow! What was that for?" He asked as he rubbed his head.

"You are an idiot!" Bookman snapped.

"Why? I thought the poem was good when I wrote it…"

"It was suspicious when you wrote it, because you were eleven. And it is a bad piece to bring up now, because you work for the Catholic CHURCH!" Bookman hit him again.

"So what if I work for the church? You don't see Kanda with a rosary reciting Hail Marys and Our Fathers every time that he threatens to kill someone!"

"Shut up, Lavi. I would not have to threaten people, if they weren't idiots like you," Kanda replied coldly.

"Well, General Cross has copulated with more women than all of the other men in the Order combined! You don't see him going to confession!"

"Lavi!" Bookman snapped.

"Let's not talk about my master…I'm feeling a little sick…" Allen's expression had grown dark and gloomy and he looked as if he were trying to suppress bad memories.

"Jeez, Gramps, it's not like Allen and Yuu will turn me in!"

"If you call me by my first name one more time, I'll do more than turn you in!" Kanda threatened.

"Lavi," A recovered Allen spoke, "You are preaching to the choir here. I was never devout and never went to church as a child. I always felt angry towards any deity that would create me as a 'freak.' I guess being ostracized makes one bitter. Now I see that I am different for a reason and am part of something bigger, but back then, I felt worthless. I couldn't even move my left arm. People used to say that I was the Devil's child, or that I was cursed by God. Mana used to recite a poem about religion. It went like this:

It seems quite odd,

To quantify God.

He is neither here nor there,

Yet exists everywhere.

You could never look and see

All of the mystery.

Everywhere, there is confrontation,

Between salvation and damnation!

Can we not find the answer

For this dogmatic cancer?

We want to find the answer.

It will not come to us,

So we thus,

Strip mine the Bible

With all of our libel.

Take a look at what all of you

Could not help but do!

Now God has cancer!"

"Wow, sounds like Mana knew a lot more than you'd think a traveling clown would…" Lavi mused. "I wonder what sort of life he led before…"

"I don't know," Allen replied. "He never talked about it. We never asked each other about the past; we only walked toward the future. He always told me to keep walking."

"I see." Lavi was not quite sure what to say to Allen. "What about you, Kanda? What will you share with us?"

"I'm not going to play your little game, Lavi."

Oh, why not? Are you scared that we'll tease you?" Lavi asked playfully.

"You both already do." Kanda was becoming more displeased each moment.

"Just one little poem? Pweese Kaaaandaaaa!" Lave was very good

"Just shut the Hell up.

I do not care what you want.

I will not comply.

My past is my own business.

I am losing my temper."

"Aw, was that a tanka? Did you just make up a little poem?" Lave seemed to be beaming and completely ignoring Kanda's threats.

"Hey, I think the train is slowing down," Allen announced.

"I think you're an idiot," snapped Kanda, who was now in quite the sour mood.

'_How fitting. Kanda's tanka wrapped up our journey.'_ Lavi smiled as he rose from his seat to gather his luggage.

"Yeah, well that doesn't change the fact that the train IS slowing down!" Allen replied bitterly.

"Sure, but that does not change the fact that you ARE an idiot!" Kanda teased.

"Well at least I pick the proper hairstyle for my gender!"

"Well, at least I'm the proper height for my gender!"

Lavi had now pulled down his suitcase as well as Bookman's. He turned to watch the two boys argue.

"Yeah, well, I-at least I don't spend HOURS in the woods every day playing with my sword!"

"It's training! You don't even HAVE a sword!"

Lavi burst out laughing.

"WHAT?!" Allen and Kanda yelled still flustered from their argument.

"Oh, nothing," Lavi replied. "Grab your stuff so that we can leave." The four of them prepared to exit the train as it began to pull into the station. It was the end of one adventure and the start of many new ones.

* * *

Sorry that I haven't updated in so long…stuff happened…I also thought that I lost the file for the poem that Lavi recites, but I had already put it in this document! OTZ Like usual, all poems were written by me! I think this will be the end of this story. If you want me to continue, or start a similar story with another set of characters, submit a review!


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